


Ghosts

by chrystening



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Shared Grief, maybe even zack/cloud if you wanna interpret it like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 00:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17415878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrystening/pseuds/chrystening
Summary: Zack’s gone, and you visit where he had his last stand with the only person who could know how you feel.Zack Fair / Male Reader.Future Cloud Strife / Male Reader?





	Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> *watches zack’s death scene on youtube*  
> Haha, i’m dead inside!
> 
> Excuse any errors i’ve made in the ff7 lore… it’s been a while, and i only really cared about crisis core at that
> 
> Ok is it just me or did i not even realize zack and aerith were really dating (in the japanese version apparently they really weren’t, but aerith did have a crush on him) i just saw it as that weird anime trope where boy and girl are friendly and hint at being more than friends but nothing substantial really occurs
> 
> second part takes place at the beginning of advent children or anywhere it’d fit i guess
> 
> Hahahahahahhha listen to zack’s death song while reading, i sure did while writing https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_ipWtjyuIM

One of your most prominent memories of Zack began with the taste of metal and copper swimming on your tongue as blood pooled in your mouth.

A cough threatened to wrack your body, but you suppressed it, trying not to alert your fellow SOLDIER to your condition. Your lungs felt raw with your breathing, each step you took sending searing hot pain up your side. You were at your limit.

You looked up, hoping that staring at the back of his head would give you motivation to keep going, watching his locks of midnight black sway with each running step. Running after him was like chasing a dream.

Behind you, there was an earth-shaking eruption. Crimson and gold of the explosion flared behind you, lighting the dark, starry sky with the color of flame. You tried to ignore the alarms going off, the guards shouting orders, the scuff of boots as soldiers scrambled to pursue you–tried to just focus on keeping up with him _–Zack always felt so far away and now he was even 1st class_ –

Your vision of him was blurring, your consciousness fading...

“If we get into the forest, we can lose them!” Zack yelled out to you.

At your lack of response, he curiously looked back. He skidded to a stop when he saw your body writhing on the ground, your hands feebly trying to push you off the ground. You hadn’t even realized you had fallen.

At the sight of you, he roared out your name, dashing back even as the thundering stampede of enemy combatants grew closer. Zack slung his behemoth of a sword over his back, before crouching by your crumpled figure to heave your arms around his shoulders.

You cried out, your side throbbing in protest.

Zack stiffened. He inspected you, noticing for the first time the patch of deep red staining your uniform.

“You’re hurt,” he gritted, before continuing to hoist you up with more care to your wound. You had no energy to physically prevent his supporting you, so you settled for verbally making your dissent known.

“Zack,” you said weakly. “Go without me.”

It was as if he hadn’t even heard you. He trudged forward, his steps heavy. He was no doubt tired enough with his own injuries without having to lug you around, though he was in better shape than you. You felt a wave of self-loathing. Best friend of not, you hated how he always had to pick up your slack.

“Zack, don’t be stupid,” you protested, but it fell on deaf ears.

Zack brought you both into the dense brush of a nearby forest. Unforgiving branches and thorns scratched at you both, though him more so. From the other side of the thicket, you could hear the whizz of bullets as they zipped through the air, the sound giving you goosebumps. But the forest must’ve given you both enough camouflage, because the commotion grew quieter, farther.

You were blinking between staying awake and sleep when before you knew it, you two were settling behind a cluster of trees, hidden enough in case any of your pursuers had come scouting.

Zack placed you gingerly against a tree trunk. He set the Buster Sword against large rock, flumping down right beside it with a comical _”whew!”_.

“You should’ve left,” you chastised him, but you were too tired to muster up the anger you wanted.

“Well, there was no way I was going to do that,” he dismissed that notion casually, stretching his arms above his head. Then his eyes shot open and his face was suddenly grave. “Wait, how’s your wound?”

He leaned forward to inspect it, only centimeters from your face. You kept yourself from blushing out of sheer power of will. He was _always_ doing that–getting so close, completely ignorant to how your heart quickened behind your chest, how you wanted him to just close the gap. The worst part was he didn’t even know how cruel he was, nor was it intentional. You weakly batted him away.

“You worry too much,” you huffed. Zack’s troubled eyes rose from your bleeding side to your face. The hard lines in his face smoothed, melting away.

“I know, I know–” he said, smiling sheepishly. “But I guess…”

Still grinning, his brows furrowed as he tried to find the right words, as if he couldn’t understand it himself.

“I guess something about you makes me want to protect you.”

He was honest, so unashamedly earnest it was almost naive. You knew this, and it just made you feel all the more flustered. Whatever he said, he meant it. Every word.

A guy so honest definitely couldn’t hide how he felt, right? You caught yourself thinking of how protective he got of you sometimes, how he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking, and all the implications that brought.

You shook your head, trying to shake the false hopes from your mind before they conjured. He was your best friend–it was never going to happen. Your throat was tight. _Don’t get any ideas,_ you reminded yourself for not the first time. _Don’t read deeper into his words than you should._

“I think… I think like you.”

On its own accord, despite your mind screaming at it to calm down, your body flooded with warmth. The electric thrill of hope raced over your skin. Despite the troubled look on your face, your heart was light, inexplicably tender. For a second, you couldn’t even feel the gash in your side anymore.

 _Zack, you ass,_ you thought. You tried to be angry at him, angry that he’d say something that would dare make you yearn for him even more than you had for the past year.

“Don’t tease me,” you croaked, and it wasn’t due to your injury. “Don’t tease me like that, Zack–”

“I’m for real,” he interrupted.

Zack’s face grew serious again, and his Mako blue gaze was so intense it almost burned. He brought a gloved hand to your face, his leather thumb wiping carefully at eyes you didn’t even noticed had watered. Your heart jumped at the touch, _his_ touch.

You brought a shaky hand and placed it on his. You were tortured between taking his hand away, or bringing it closer so you could lean into his palm.

Zack’s cerulean eyes, so full of clarity, scanned your face. You felt embarrassed being so scrutinized, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Not when there was suddenly a light dusting of pink above his cheekbones. It was a lovely color on him.

You sighed, your own face flushed. “Zack–”

“No, I–I’ve got to say it or I never will,” he interrupted, looking down at his free hand. He tightened it into a fist, steeling himself with determination. It felt he was talking more to himself than to you.

You jumped when he brought his gaze back to you, fire in his eyes. His hand fell from your cheek, flexing restlessly on his knee.

“I like you,” he said again, bashfully this time. He looked to you for understanding. At seeing your stupefied expression, he elaborated, “Y-you know… like _that.”_

You couldn’t help but let out a weak chuckle, ignoring the pain wracking your ribs. He always had such a way with words. The confession echoed in your head. _‘I like you.’_

_‘I like you.’_

_… He likes me._

You were filled with euphoria, relief rising up in you like bubbles. When you couldn’t contain it anymore, it manifested in the form of laughter. All the anxiety you had felt for the past year–afraid of ruining your friendship, afraid there was no chance he’d feel the same way, or worse, that you’d delude yourself into thinking he did. It was all… unfounded.

You tried to keep quiet, to prevent behind heard by any unfriendly listeners, so your body silently shook with mirth. You kept laughing until you were hiccuping. You kept laughing until your head hurt, until you hurt everywhere.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa–” Zack exclaimed. At his panic, you only laughed harder. “Hey, you’ll irritate your wounds!”

When your laughing spell came to an end, you saw Zack’s face was completely pink.

“You didn’t have to laugh at me…” he muttered. There was a cutely indignant look at his face, and it was funny until you saw the insecurity and the pain of rejection creep into his averted eyes. You reached out for Zack’s hand immediately. He made a move to take it back, but you squeezed his hand.

“Hey,” you said.

He looked up to you uncertainly, bracing himself for further rejection. He was always so easy to read, his heart always on his sleeve, for better or worse.

“Zack,” you repeated, smile quivering. “I like you, too.”

He stared at you dumbly, not even registering what you had said. His body relaxed, his eyes glowing as he beamed at you. You felt your speeding heart calm at the view. It was the expression most fitting on him.

“You do?” he asked in disbelief.

“I like you, Zack,” you confirmed. You averted your eyes and scratched your cheek, cheeks darkening. “... Now don’t make me say it again.”

“Alright, alright,” he relinquished, but the grin on his face was extremely smug. He settled into the spot right next to you, his hands behind his head. You fell silent, and Zack did as well while he surveyed your face. “You act kinda tough, but you’re a pretty cute guy, you know?”

Your mouth fell open in indignation, gaping while you tried to find an appropriate response. “I… You’re… you’re stupid,” you sputtered lamely, no other insults coming to your mind fast enough.

He looked at you with a heart-stuttering, self-confident air about him. It was such a good look on him that it irritated you.

Regardless, you leaned onto his shoulder, focusing on the warmth he radiated, the familiar scent of leather and steel that clung to him.

Idyllic moments of silence passed. Your eyes grew heavy, and you gave up on keeping them open.

“Zack–”

“Yeah?” he said before you could finish. He was always so eager, you thought. You sighed.

“Tell me your dream again.”

Of course, you hadn’t forgotten his resolution. Nor had anybody who had ever talked to him for longer than five minutes. You just wanted to hear him talk.

You could almost _hear_ the confident grin on his face, his chest puffing.

“To become a hero.”

Your lips curled at his declaration, debating for not the first time whether Zack was a buoyant, optimistic SOLDIER you had grown to care for so deeply... or if he was just an idiot.

-

 _He was both, definitely,_ you thought.

Dust kicked up under tires, flying into the air. You clutched Cloud’s shirt tightly, eyes closed while you buried your head a bit lower to shield your face from the debris.

The Fenrir revved underneath you both, the hum of the bicycle almost lulling. You rocked to the side with the bike whenever it swerved around boulders and the rocky terrain. The ride felt like it went on forever, but you didn’t mind. Sure, it had been you who had asked to see his grave, but that didn’t mean you were all that anxious to actually arrive.

The Fenrir slowed to a deep growl, and you felt it crawl until it stopped. You had reached your destination. Despite that, you didn’t move. Your eyes were still closed, ears still focusing on the whistle of the wind that rushed by, absentmindedly noticing how Cloud’s hair tickled your skin. He didn’t move either, nor did he speak.

 _Take your time,_ was what he left unsaid, but you heard nonetheless. Always the softie, as aloof as he tried to appear.

After a few more moments of gathering your courage, you breathed deeply. You summoned the strength to swing your leg over Fenrir's side and hop off the bike, landing on your feet.

You looked at the grim, dismal landscape. Barren. No trees, no grass.

“... This was where it happened?” you said, voice quiet. You didn't need a confirmation, however. The Buster Sword stood in the dry earth, a tombstone. You looked solemnly at its state—Zack would’ve never let it grow so cracked with rust, so dull.

Cloud gave you a quiet nod, his eyes locked on the last memento his friend had left him.

A dry wind brushed across your skin. “He deserved a better resting place.” You saw out the corner of your eye Cloud’s fist grow taut.

Looking at him, you frowned at the guilt-ridden expression you now knew to perpetually exist on Cloud’s face. Always _atoning_ for crimes he didn’t commit, always holding the burden. Cloud smiled much more often before. The little light that peeked from behind the cloudy sky lit his eyes, the haunted Mako blue not unlike your own.

_“Well, well, look who finally decided to show up.”_

You turned around at that familiar voice, and saw an image seated on a boulder meters away.

Zack looked at you with the trademark self-assuredness you were used to seeing from him. He looked just how you remembered him. The dark cowlicks that seemed to make up all his hair, the unwavering certainty in his eyes, his studded ears, the x-shaped scar along his jaw, the tendons in his arm that would never hold a sword again. The only thing missing from his iconic ensemble was the Buster Sword, absent from his back.

You smiled painfully. This wasn’t the first time he had appeared before you. _Cruel as ever._

Your heart pleaded for you to say something in return, as you had many times before. It took all your willpower to turn away. You didn’t want to talk to his ghost anymore.

You looked to Cloud, who appeared to be battling his own demons. Before you knew it, you had placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked to you in surprise, and you realized you didn’t know quite what to say. There was so much you _could_ say.

You settled for the simplest.

“I... I miss him,” you said in the morbid silence that had overcome you both. “And you do, too.”

Cloud looked at you with pained eyes, a childlike vulnerability in them. You let a grim smile curl your lips.

“But he’d hate for you…” You swallowed drily. “... for _us_ to apologize for things that aren’t our fault,” you said to him. Your words were heavy, so much grief underlying them. There wasn’t a way you could verbally express any of this.

Cloud didn’t say anything, his eyebrows knotting in anguish. That was fine, though. He didn’t have to speak for you to know how he felt. You didn’t expect him to respond at all, and you were pleasantly surprised when he placed a trembling hand on top of where yours laid.

You didn’t know how long the both of you stood there, both of your presences comforting the other.

“We should get back,” Cloud said after a while, looking up at the graying sky.

“I’ll… I’ll just be a second,” you told him, confused with yourself. You didn’t know exactly why you wanted to stay behind. Cloud nodded anyway, his hand falling from yours. You heard the crunch of the gravel under Cloud’s boots as he walked away reluctantly, to give you privacy.

You stared at the rusted blade of the Buster Sword.

A chill raced through your veins. You realized you were staying behind to say goodbye, and your heart pinched. There was the acute pain of grieving.

And after that… peace?

You looked up to see Zack was still coolly leaning on the boulder meters away, smiling at you. You let out a croaked, broken laugh.

It was peace, you confirmed.

Out of curiosity, you turned around.

Cloud was leaning against the Fenrir, arms folded and eyes closed. He tried not to look it, but he was clearly waiting for you.

You walked forward, to your friend. When you were a step in front of him, you took one last look at Zack’s grave marker. When you turned back around again, you saw a gloved hand was offered hesitantly to you. Your eyes stared at it, then rising slowly to Cloud’s face. In a way, Cloud also wore his heart on his sleeve. Besides the feelings neither of you knew how to address, you saw his guilt, his woundedness, his uncertainty. You could read all the thoughts that must’ve been racing through his mind. It was like looking in a mirror.

You huffed, rolling your eyes in jest.

“You think too much,” you said, humored at the confused look on his face.

You took his hand, regardless of what exactly it meant for the future. Right now, it meant you were there.

You didn't need his help getting on, but you allowed it anyway. Seated, you offered an encouraging smile to Cloud.

He stood almost awkwardly, before you saw the ghost – _the faintest hint_ – of a smile back. It was gone as fast as it had appeared, and left you blinking dumbly as he nimbly slipped onto the Fenrir. You leaned into his back, anticipating the engine to start so you both could return home.

But to your surprise, Cloud spoke.

“He... carried me. While we were on the run, before...” Cloud’s words became more gritted, as if it were physically taxing. “Zack... he looked after me the whole time.” He breathed shakily, as if a weight was off his shoulders.

You stared at Cloud’s back, knowing in ways that couldn’t be described _exactly_ how he felt. Cloud’s head turned slightly to see if you understood, and you knew instantly he did.

The Fenrir roared to life, and Cloud gripped its handlebars. You curled your fingers Cloud’s sleeve tighter, burying into his back like you had done before. You smiled solemnly, closing your eyes.

“That sounds _exactly_ like what he’d do.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> zack really just lost all his friends one by one to shinra’s shitty experimentation, they kinda just abandoned him with no thought to how he felt. Zack always had to fight his friends because they never listened to him–he wanted them to know they were never alone but they NeVeR listened to him. zack was always so optimistic and never lost hope, never resented his friends, and always referred back to angeal (his true mentor and friend) whenever he felt lost. Like i love all of the characters but also fuck everyone in crisis core besides zack, cloud and aerith
> 
> Urrhrghghg i REALLY don’t care for how this turned out but it’s been in my drafts too long. will probably go back and change things, it feels unfocused to me. 
> 
> what did you think of it?? comment below...


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